


You'll Always Be My Favorite Color

by haiplana



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Ava and Sara are both little shits but they are in love, F/F, Fighting, Fluff, French Revolution, Minor angst really, Napoleon Bonaparte - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 16:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haiplana/pseuds/haiplana
Summary: Sara and Ava find themselves stuck in a barricade in France and have to find their way out, but Damien Darhk is lurking nearby. Unfortunately for Sara, murder wasn't on the agenda (Ava doesn't think murder should ever be on the agenda).





	You'll Always Be My Favorite Color

It was supposed to be a quick mission: get in, make sure history was on the right path, get to the Waverider. But, with the Legends, things never seemed to go according to plan, and unfortunately this fate came at the worst of times. A riot had broken out in a narrow Paris street, and Sara and Ava had gotten separated from the rest of the team. While the others got away, Sara and Ava were sucked into a swirling crowd, just barely able to stay together. Sara’s comms unit was knocked out of her ear, never to be seen again. The riot had calmed down, and Sara and Ava thought that they could finally break free, but barricades were put up, blocking their exit. Ava had insisted that they find cover, so Sara went straight to the best part of the street: the bar.

That was where Sara found herself at sunset the same day — a lively French bar full of soldiers, peasants, and prostitutes. She had a seat at a small table in the corner, perfect for surveying the other patrons. Ava was in another seat pulled further away from the table, slouching unhappily though still with a straight back and high chin. A barmaid was making her rounds, and Sara signaled for another jug of wine. Ava scoffed, her scowling face finally looking at Sara for the first time in hours.

“How can you drink that much? Do you see what we’re dealing with?”

“I can see perfectly fine, thank you,” Sara said. “We’re stuck in one of the most turbulent times in modern French history without communication or technology. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Alcohol isn’t an appropriate coping mechanism,” Ava retorted.

It was Sara’s turn to scoff. “What do you mean ‘alcohol isn’t an appropriate coping mechanism’?” She lifted her cup in a mocking toast and knocked back the rest of her wine. She finally started to feel a wave of tingling. “It’s working.”

“We should be working on a plan to get out of this. You don’t seem to be doing anything in the way of escape.” Ava narrowed her eyes at Sara as the barmaid returned with wine.

“While you were sulking,” Sara said, “I was checking for exit strategies. The bar is too crowded right now, and so is the street. Houses are full and there aren’t any back doors. I’m not sure if you are aware, but barricades are built to keep enemies out and friends in. There is literally no way we can get out of this until the barricades are brought down.”

Ava was silenced by this, seemingly embarrassed at her lack of attention. Sara smirked, but she hid it behind the rim of her cup. As she scanned the bar once more, she noticed an attractive brunette woman looking their way. She thought she saw the woman eying her for the briefest moment. Normally, Sara would take the opportunity to greet an interested woman — she enjoyed liberating the repressed sapphic women of the past, for their sake and hers. This time, though, it felt odd with Ava Sharpe across from her. She didn’t care whether or not Ava would approve, of course, but for some strange reason she didn’t want to leave Ava alone and run off with some woman. Sara shook her head and drank more wine.

“If we’re going to be here for the foreseeable future, maybe we should try and enjoy ourselves,” Sara suggested, raising an eyebrow at Ava playfully. Ava leveled her with another glare.

“You already seem to be doing just that.”

Sara chose to ignore her. “Do you see that woman over there? Red dress, brown hair piled on her head, pretty blue eyes. I bet you can’t flirt with her enough to get her to come sit with us.”

“Why would I want to flirt with a French woman?” Ava asked shortly.

“Because she’s attractive and you’re gay.” Sara waited for a scathing reply from Ava, and when she didn’t get one, she looked back to her companion. Ava was open-mouthed, for once at a loss for words. Sara’s gut shrunk with guilt. “After what you said to the Vikings about not being the husband type, I sort of assumed.”

Ava brought a hand to her face, closed her eyes, and massaged her forehead for a moment. “You aren’t wrong.” She opened her eyes and looked at Sara, different than before. “I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me.”

“Well,” Sara said, though it was open-ended, as she didn’t know how to respond to that. It threw her off guard to see Ava go from being so combative to so vulnerable. “How about it, then? The bet.”

“Fine.” Ava regarded Sara for a moment, her lips puckered slightly in a way that made Sara laugh. “If I win, I get to choose an anachronism that you and your team absolutely have to stay away from and let the Bureau handle.”

Sara nodded. “And if you lose, I get a hug.”

“Try again.”

“Your kidney.”

“What the hell, Sara?” Ava shook her head and stood from the table.

“You know, you can get a lot for a kidney on the black market,” Sara said.

“Of course you know that,” Ava responded. She pushed her loose hair back, smoothed the skirt of her dress, and started for the woman across the room. The woman wasn’t too far away, so Sara was able to hear them even over the din of the bar. “How are you, madame?”

“Well, and yourself?” the woman asked politely. She was sitting on one of the tables, and she planted an elbow on her knee and dropped her chin into her hand.

Ava brought her hands behind her back. “Fine. I am… Eva Sharpe.” Sara spit out her wine at Ava’s attempt at an alias. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Jacqueline Durand.” They stood there in silence, Ava rocking on feet and Jacqueline staring expectantly. When no words came from Ava’s mouth, she said, “You must not be from Paris.”

“No, I’m from very far away.”

Truly, Sara hadn’t expected Ava to be this awkward. Ava was attractive, if a little uptight — she was certainly a catch for any woman willing to deal with a little attitude. Sara figured that Ava was a seasoned lesbian. What she was witnessing was nothing like she imagined, and it took everything in her to keep from laughing.

“Well, I must go,” Jacqueline said, and Ava nodded and headed back to the table, her eyes dark and angry. Sara couldn’t contain her laughter any longer.

“I can’t sit here and watch this. The secondhand embarrassment is very real.”

“I’m glad my pain is enjoyable to you,” Ava muttered bitterly.

“E-va Sharpe?” Sara burst out between giggles. “Are you twelve?”

“You still have all your fingers, but that can easily be fixed.” Ava’s threat was weak, though. Her high cheekbones were painted red, and her golden hair couldn’t even hide the blush on her neck.

“I’m sorry.” Sara had finally calmed down and was able to look at Ava with a straight face. “I figured you would be able to talk to another woman like an actual human.”

Ava looked down and lowered her voice. “It’s been a while since I’ve dated.”

“Obviously.”

“What, like you could do any better?” Ava challenged, an edge in her voice that Sara had never heard. She finally touched the second cup on the table and poured some wine. Sara felt a smug pride when she watched Ava down her first round.

“Trust me, I’ve wooed many women throughout time. There was a nurse in the fifties, the entire town of Salem, the queen of France, Queen Guinevere. Have you heard of Lancelot? That’s me. Lance-a-lot.” Sara stopped when she realized that no reaction was coming from Ava. “Are you even listening?”

“Yes, it just takes me a while to process so much stupid all at once.”

“You are just jealous,” Sara said.

“I’m not jealous,” Ava replied just a bit too quickly and too loudly.

“I guess the Time Bureau gig doesn’t give you much room to meet beautiful women.”

Ava looked right into Sara’s eyes. “You’d be surprised,” she said softly.

Sara brushed the moment off, taking another sip of wine. “What made you join the organization, anyway? Was it for the glory?”

“They offered me what I couldn’t refuse,” Ava answered, “money. My father was in the hospital with a rare heart condition, and I was still paying my student loans. Rip said he could pay me enough to keep my dad in the hospital until he died and more for the loans.”

“I guess that isn’t a bad reason.” Sara kept her eyes away from Ava, played with the rim of her cup. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“It’s something I came to terms with long ago. I was able to enjoy my last moments with him rather than agonize over the loss.”

Sara could relate, on some level. She had experienced great loss over her life, and the time she spent grieving was time wasted. Her current way of dealing with grief — ignorance and ass-kicking — wasn’t particularly healthy either. She marveled at the way Ava was able to talk about these things easily.

“I don’t like to talk about my feelings,” Sara admitted.

“I don’t like salad. Or eye contact,” Ava said with a smile. “But, I eat salad once a week and look people in the eye when I need to. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to keep ourselves healthy.”

Sara was about to open her mouth to speak when she noticed a man across the room. His hair was swept back from his round face, and his clothes were of an officer’s. He had his hand tucked into the front of his vest. As he made his way to the center of the room, he surveyed the crowd with distain. Sara gasped.

“Do you see who that is?” She reached over and grabbed Ava’s arm excitedly.

“Who are you talking about?”

“That man,” Sara explained. “Officer’s uniform greasy hair. Looks stuck-up.”

“I see him,” Ava said. “Who is he?”

“Are you kidding? That’s Napoleon Bonaparte.” Sara was nearly bouncing in her seat. Ava stared at her, a wide grin on her face.

“Sara Lance, are you fawning over Napoleon?”

Sara stopped bouncing and glared at Ava. “I was a history major in college with a concentration in French history. Shoot me.”

“Do your friends know about this? I’m sure Mister Heywood would be thrilled to learn of this passion of yours,” Ava said, a thinly veiled threat on her lips.

“You tell them and I’ll tell them about your strike out with _Jaqueline_ ,” Sara fired back, smirking.

Ava froze. “I will kill you, burn you and dance on your ashes.”

“You’ve probably been told this before, but _wow_ , you are intense.” Sara shook her head, amused at Ava’s ferocity. “I thought I was bad with threatening League torture.”

Ava looked back to the crowd in the bar. Sara took the time to study her profile. Her features were sharp — her cheekbones and jawline could cut glass — but there was a softness around her eyes that drew Sara in. Her hair was beautiful when it flowed down her back in golden-brown waves. It was soft, too, and smelled nice. When they had infiltrated the Viking camp in Vinland, Ava had leaned against Sara, letting her hair brush on the assassin’s cheek. Sara had considered asking Gideon if she could track down Ava’s shampoo brand.

“Sara,” Ava said, suddenly sitting up straight, “we have a problem.”

Sara followed Ava’s sightline to where a bald man in worker’s clothing was entering the bar.

“Darhk,” Sara growled, her hand reaching to her ankle.

“What are you doing?” Ava asked, though she could obviously tell what Sara was planning. Her voice was low and calming. Slowly, she shifted over so she could stop Sara’s hand from trailing further to the bottom of her skirt. “Hey,” she said soothingly, her hand covering Sara’s, “don’t.”

“Does the Time Bureau have a problem with killing Damien Darhk?” Sara snapped. Ava remained steadfast in her hold on Sara’s hand.

“I’m not saying you can’t shoot him. I’m just saying you can’t shoot him here.”

The tension eased from Sara’s shoulders. She was able to think clearly again. “What could he be doing here?”

“If he’s in the same bar as Napoleon Bonaparte,” Ava said, “I’d guess he’s here for him.”

“Darhk is lucky you’re here to stop me. And that murder wasn’t on today’s agenda.“ Sara narrowed her eyes at the man and drank more wine to steady herself.

“It’s not on anyone’s.“

“No, it is on mine. Just not until next Tuesday.“ Ava shook her head at Sara for the hundredth time that day. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s focus on Darhk,” Ava said, finally drawing her hand away from Sara. “Maybe he won’t do anything here. There are a lot of witnesses, and Napoleon is very popular at this time.”

Sara smirked. “Someone else knows her French history.”

“Focus.” Ava still dipped her head to hide her blush.

“Crowds haven’t scared Darhk before. He actually seems to like the spectacle. So, I think we should take him out quickly. I have a few throwing knives in my pouch, I still have my gun. Maybe we could take him out into the street and claim that he’s a spy for the Directoire. The rebels would love that,” Sara rambled on. The more she spoke, the deeper Ava’s disappointment cemented on her face.

“Are you always this stupid or is today a special occasion?” She asked, and the question seemed genuine.

“If you won’t let me shoot him, we have to find another way to take him down. Should we try to poison him?”

“Stop saying things like that so loud!”

Sara shrugged. “It’s a viable option.”

The crowd was still thickening as French revolutionaries tried to escape the chill outside. Napoleon was still in the middle of it all, but he was getting harder to track. So was Darhk.

“The best thing to do is to take Napoleon out of the bar before Darhk can get to him.” Ava’s eyes scanned the crowd, looked for every exit and charted a good course. “I think I have an exit strategy.”

“What do we do about Darhk? He’s still in the barricade and he’s still looking for Napoleon. He’ll find him eventually. Do you have a plan for that?” Sara asked, getting a little antsy. She knew that she should be the one trying to form a plan — she _was_ captain of the Waverider after all — but Darhk always threw her off her game. It seemed that Ava could sense this and was trying to take over for her.

“Sure, I have something in mind,” Ava replied distractedly.

“I find that answer vague and unconvincing.”

“Okay, so we get Napoleon to go outside with us, carefully avoiding Darhk, take him to his soldiers, and then…” Ava looked back to Sara, eyes wide, bottom lip between her teeth. Sara had never seen so much indecision on her face. It looked like whatever she was considering physically pained her. “We could incite a riot.”

Sara smiled slowly. “Now you’re thinking like a Legend.”

“Please never say those words again in regards to me,” Ava said, eyes closed, hand up as though to physically protect her from the implications of those words.

“You’re being reckless. It’s hot.”

Ava’s eyes flew open, and they were wider than Sara had ever seen. Sara often said things like that; she was an incredibly candid person, and if a person deserved to hear it, she would say it. But, this was Ava. When did she ever think _Ava_ was hot? She didn’t want to answer that.

“Come on,” Ava spluttered before clearing her throat. She stood from her chair and nodded with her head towards the great general. “We should start moving now.”

Sara waited a moment more after Ava had started walking. She admired her confident stride and easy walk, but noticed that Ava held back. Ava always held back.

After a few moments, Ava turned back and raised her eyebrows at Sara. That was enough admiring for now. Sara stood from the table and caught up to Ava, and together they walked towards Napoleon, who was standing in a crowd of people. Sara told Ava to stand back, that she could handle it. She had, after all, a certain way with generals.

“Monsieur Bonaparte,” she said smoothly. “Your officers need your attention in the alleyway. They sent us to escort you to them.”

“My soldiers do not send prostitutes to summon them.” Napoleon’s tone was short and haughty as he started down at Sara, his eyes raking over her body. Hot anger pooled into Sara’s sternum.

“I can assure you that your men sent me. There is word of a Directoire attack on this barricade tonight. They need you at the western barrier.” Sara smiled forcibly and seized Napoleon by the arm, intent on dragging him out of the bar. Thankfully, he didn’t fight her too much. She followed Ava, who was on lookout for Darhk, and they slowly made their way out of the bar and into the street. 

The bar was in the center of the barricade, so the barriers were around the three corners and out of sight. No one was on the street in that area. Sara pulled them further away from the bar, and the sounds began to fade behind the thick walls. It was dark, and only lanterns hanging over doors lit the street. Once they were a few steps away, Sara turned and landed a blow to the back of Napoleon’s head, knocking him out. He crumpled to the ground at Sara’s feet.

“What the hell, Sara?” Ava exclaimed, dropping down to check Napoleon’s pulse. “Can’t you act like an adult for once?”

“Look, being an adult is overrated. You have to pay taxes and people frown at you for watching cartoons in your PJs all Saturday and eating ice cream for breakfast. You leave home and go to college trying to be like an adult, and the next thing you know you’re sucked out to sea, stranded on an island with murderers, saved by a pretty girl and inducted into a cult of assassins. I gave up trying to be an adult long ago.”

Ava looked up at her like she had grown another head — a mix of confusion and anger and pity. Her head dropped to her hands for a moment, and Sara heard her take a deep breath.

“This might still work.”

“It definitely will,” Sara said, hooking an arm under Napoleon and trying to pick him up. She glared at Ava until the other woman did the same and they were able to bring him to his feet. “It will be easier, actually. We tell the soldiers he drank to much and we stow him away where no one can find him.”

“You are… not wrong,” Ava stated brusquely.

“Aw, Aves, I’m blushing,” Sara drawled.

“Shut up.” Ava began to walk, and Sara followed with her. They supported Napoleon’s weight between them. After a few minutes, they came across a group of soldiers guarding a doorway. Sara discreetly checked the perimeter for signs of Darhk. They were safe.

“Monsieurs,” Sara called as they approached. The soldiers were well lit by torches, and they all looked young and proud. “General Bonaparte has had too much to drink. We thought it best to bring him to you and to keep him in a safe place.”

“You were right to do so,” a young blonde man said. He stepped forward and shouldered the weight of Napoleon from them. “We can keep him guarded in this store room back here.”

“Make sure he is kept safe at all costs. Monsieur Bonaparte is the savior of France.”

“Of course, Madame. Goodnight to you.”

Sara nodded, and she led Ava further down the street, toward the barrier. The air was cool, and it made her want to stay closer to Ava, but she held herself back.

“I think I know how we can start this riot that you want,” Sara said as they approached the barricade. Most of the rebels who were guarding it were asleep. They crept through the spaces between the wood planks and doors and furniture until they were pressed up against the barrier in a small space that hid them from both sides. Through the crevices, Sara could see Directoire soldiers milling about, cannons aimed at the barricade. “The soldiers there don’t have orders to strike yet. Likely, they won’t until dawn, because the barricades went up so quickly and suddenly. They also don’t know that Napoleon is behind this, and that in two days, after a major bloodshed here, Napoleon will storm the Directoire with his army and stage a coup.”

“What are you saying?” Ava’s breath was on Sara’s cheek, and she shivered. Ava noticed.

“All we have to do is get the battle to come a few hours earlier. I take a shot, the Directoire soldiers think they need to attack, and then there’s chaos. That’s where we take our exit,” Sara explained. She brought the gun from her ankle holster and aimed it at one of the soldiers standing at the front of the barricade.

Ava put a hand on Sara’s shoulder. “Hold on. Do you see those cannons over there? As soon as you do that, we’ll get blasted.”

“You underestimate my strategy,” Sara replied, yet she knew Ava was right. Even she managed to shoot out all of the gunmen, other soldiers would just step up and fire. “If we stick to the walls, we might be able to go around them. The only problem is the other soldiers, but if we wait for them to storm the barricade, then they will have thinned out on the other side. If we want to do this, we have to do it now before their forces grow.” Ava looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. Sara returned the gesture and then looked down the sight of her gun, took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Sara,” Ava said quietly. Sara looked back into her eyes, wide and dark and glowing in the torchlight. “I trust you.”

That was all it took. Sara aimed her gun and fired, not caring if she hit or missed anyone as long as it got the soldiers moving. Shouting began immediately, followed by gunshots and the sound of wheels turning slowly. The cannons.

“We have to move, like now.” Sara began pushing Ava out of the crawlspace and into the street. Already, the rebels had begun to rouse. They were shouting down the street, sending runners, calling for more people and more weapons. Sara pulled Ava against a building and brought them to the ground.

The first cannon fired a round in a deafening crack, and the ball hit the barricade. It sent wood flying higher than the tops of the buildings. Rebels poured towards the barrier, fitting their long guns through slots in the wood. They fired rounds hopelessly as another cannon tore into the barricade. This went on for some time, and every once in a while things would grow silent. Then, another gunshot, another scream, another cannon round.

“How long until they storm the barricade?” Ava asked. Sara peered over to look at the state of the wall. It was thinning drastically.

“A few cannon rounds. Soon, hopefully.”

They waited as more cannons fired into the barricade. The fighting seemed to pick up then as more rebels ran to join the fight. Sara watched boys the age of ten and old men with graying hair run into the fray, guns raised.

Someone shouted, “They’re coming!” and Sara looked at Ava. It was their chance. Feet pounded, bodies hit wood, gunshots were fired. Cries of agony filled the air, and blood spattered over the street. The first soldier to climb the barricade was shot down, but the next three made it to the other side. Then, a wave of soldiers poured into the street.

“Let’s go.” Ava grabbed Sara’s hand and pulled her toward the barricade. Bigger holes had formed, and they snuck around the fighting men and into the crevices once again. Sara watched Ava try to maneuver around splintered planks, but one caught on her side and cut through her dress. She cried out in pain, pressing a hand to the wound. It was bleeding. “Damn it.”

“That is one massive splinter,” Sara said. The concern in her voice was evident even in her jest.

“Don’t mock me. I feel like I’m being stabbed.”

“How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?”

Ava glared at Sara. “Time Bureau agents don’t just sit behind desks.”

“That’s debatable, based on the number of anachronisms we end up dealing with,” Sara muttered.  
“Please stop talking, I’m trying to get us out alive.” Ava took her hand away from her side and used it to press on weak planks of wood. She left a trail of blood as they continued on. When they were about to reach the other side, they stopped and surveyed. Sara had been right, the number of soldiers was greatly reduced, but they still had threats to contend with. “Part of the street turns a corner here, and that looks pretty empty. All of the soldiers are coming straight on. If we can just get past that corner, I think we might make it.”

Sara nodded. “If we get split up, keep going until you get out of the area. The Waverider is in a park that shouldn’t be far from here.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Instead of answering, Sara moved around Ava and started to leave the barricade. Ava was on her tail. They rushed to the wall of the surrounding buildings, trying their best to remain unseen. There was little time for stealth, however. They needed to move quickly. Thankfully, they made it halfway to the corner without anyone seeing them.

Sara knew to never let her guard down. She knew not to fell as though she had escaped. Still, she was somehow caught. A soldier came up behind her and she barely had time to think before he grabbed her. The gun was still in her hand, and she whirled around to use it on him. Two more soldiers came to his aid, and just as Sara hit the first on over the head, the other two were bringing her to the ground.

“Sara!” Ava’s shrill voice barely reached her ears over the cannons and gunshots and the beating of her heart. 

One of the soldiers took out a knife and stabbed it into her right arm. She dropped the gun she had been holding. He went to slash her throat, but he stopped cold. He fell to his side, leaving the other solider looking on in shock. The last one was yanked back by the collar of his coat. Ava was there, her front pressed to the man’s back, her hand around his throat. Sara’s eyes were wide as she watched Ava hold him there, then toss him back to the ground. A knife dripping with blood hung from her hand.

“Oh. You’re still alive,” Ava said, and though she was trying to keep it together, Sara could see her shaking.

“Don’t sound so disappointed. I might think you don’t like me.” Sara checked over the men on the ground. All still breathing. Her gaze shot up to Ava. “Non-lethal areas?”

“I’m careful. Murder isn’t on the agenda today, right?” Ava quipped behind gritted teeth. She still had blood running from her side and staining her pink dress, turning it a darker shade. With the addition of the soldier’s blood, she was covered in dark red. She looked… beautiful. What an odd thought to have in the middle of a battlefield, yet so fitting for Sara and her affection for Ava. “We should— we should move now. Before more come back.”

But Ava took no steps. Sara stood and gently went to Ava’s side, took the slick knife from her hand. “All that blood looks good on you. It brings out your eyes.”

Ava’s mouth fell open, but Sara just took her hand and pulled her along. They kept to the shadows and snuck through the dark city streets, their path lit by the moon and sparse lamplight. Each time the sound of heavy boots on cobblestone rang throughout the narrow streets, Sara would pull them into a tight alley. Then they would move on. Sara never let go of Ava’s hand.

If it were a normal French night, they probably could have made it to the Waverider in twenty or thirty minutes. However, with the confusion of the rebellion and the constant stopping, they were pushing an hour. Sara had made sure to take wrong turns every once in a while to loop back, just in case someone were following them. Just as they rounded a corner, Sara spotted a large troupe of soldiers heading up the road and making quick time. They ducked into a small crevice that could hardly count as an alley; it looked like a crawlspace frequented by the homeless. In order to fit in all the way, Sara had to press herself to Ava and wiggle to make room. Their dresses didn’t help much.

As the soldiers started to pass through, Sara took the time to take a breath. When she did, she finally noticed exactly how close she was to Ava. Their chests were pressed together, their foreheads just barely touching. Sara fought the urge to close her eyes.

Instead, she spoke. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I wasn’t going to let you die, Sara,” Ava said as though it were obvious. And maybe it should have been. Especially after Vinland, when Ava broke the rules to save her from Mollus. When she said it was worth it.

Sara brought her hand to Ava’s cheek, gently laid her hand on the soft skin there. Ava’s eyes closed involuntarily, and she lifted her chin just slightly to press against Sara’s touch.

“Can I?” Sara asked, but instead of answering, Ava closed the minute amount of space and gently pressed her lips to Sara’s. Sara could feel Ava’s lips trembling, could feel the hesitation and fear in the meek movements. The footfalls of the soldiers had passed, but Sara still placed her other hand on Ava’s cheek and deepened the kiss, doing her best to quell Ava’s trepidation. Ava locked her fingers over Sara’s wrists, holding her in place.

When the air in the crevice had turned hot, Sara pulled back. She looked into Ava’s eyes apologetically.

“Right, we need to move.” Ava took a shuddering breath and then squeezed out of the crevice. Sara took a moment to exhale and then left the crevice as well.

The rest of the journey to the Waverider was uneventful. They had gone far enough away from the barricade that they were out of the conflict zone. When they finally reached the edge of the park, Sara wanted to cry from relief. To the naked eye, it seemed that the park was empty. However, Sara knew exactly where she had parked the timeship. She tracked her steps, found where the door should have been, and reached her hand out. To her relief, she felt cool metal under her palm. When she turned around, Ava was a few feet away, watching nervously.

“Come on,” Sara said, “it’s here. I just need to find the switch.” She patted around on the side of the ship until she felt the switch under her fingers. The door began to open as soon as she pressed it, revealing the inside of the cargo bay. Ava had reached Sara’s side and brushed their hands together.

They boarded the ship and quickly closed the door once they were inside. Sara couldn’t walk any faster. She needed to check on her team and make sure they were okay, then check to make sure they hadn’t caused a greater anachronism. But a body collapsed behind Sara, and she was running to Ava’s side. The bleeding was worse than Sara had thought.

“Gideon!” she yelled to the ceiling. “Call the rest of the team to the cargo bay and prepare a medical bed! Hurry!”

Gideon didn’t even take the time to respond with an affirmative. Sara knew that the AI had listened when she heard heavy footsteps. Amaya, Nate, and Ray came charging around the corner. Their eyes lit up, but their gazes fell as soon as they saw Ava on the ground, a panting Sara kneeling over her.

“Sara—”

“Help me!”

Ray and Nate gathered Ava in their arms and started for the med bay. Amaya gently picked Sara off of the floor, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and led her through the Waverider.

“It’s okay,” she said soothingly. “She’ll be okay. Ava is stubborn. Gideon will take care of her.” Sara nodded, cheeks wet, jaw clenched. When they reached the bridge, Sara went straight for her office. She snatched a glass tumbler and filled it to the brim with her bottle of scotch, then fell into her cushy leather chair. Amaya caught up and stood in front of Sara, her hands on her hips. “You need to shower. You’re dirty and covered in blood.”

Sara just stared straight ahead. “Not until I know she’s okay.”

“If you don’t clean yourself up right now, you won’t be allowed to see her.” Amaya’s voice was more threatening than Sara had ever heard it.

“Fine,” Sara snapped. She slammed her tumbler onto the table beside and stormed away.

A shower didn’t help Sara feel better. Neither did clean clothes. Ava’s suit jacket was still hanging in Sara’s room from when they had argued about going to France. Sara ignored it.

Gideon called Sara to the med bay shortly after she had put her clothes on. Sara ran out of her room and down the hallway. She entered the med bay, expecting to see an unconscious Ava. Instead, Ava was sitting up, already trying to wrestle a clean shirt over her head. A bandage wrapped completely around her midsection, covering most of her abs. Sara stopped abruptly at the door. Ava looked up, feigning annoyance.

“Took you long enough.” A smile grew on her face, though, unable to keep up the facade. She finished pulling the shirt over her body and relaxed back into the cushions of the bed.

“Are you kidding me?” Sara cried, throwing her arms in the air. “We made it through all that and you decided to pass out in the cargo bay and scare the shit out of me?”

“I mean I didn’t really have control over where I passed out from blood loss and exhaustion.”

“You know, that’s not what an apology sounds like,” Sara said with a scoff.

“Just get over here.” Ava reached her hand out expectantly. Sara huffed but walked over to her bedside. She was thankful that she could finally feel Ava again, and she took her hand and laced their fingers together.

“So, we survived a barricade in the French Revolution,” Sara began.

“And we kidnapped Napoleon Bonaparte,” Ava added with a wink.

“We didn’t kill anyone at least.”

“Killing innocent people is generally frowned upon.” Ava raised her eyebrows at Sara, who just waved her hand.

“Keep your morals far away from me,” she said. Ava laughed, then her face grew serious.

“You also kissed me.” The smile that grew on Ava’s face, so shy and adorable, made Sara’s heart pound in her chest.

“Technically, you kissed me.”

“Technically.” Ava tugged on Sara’s hand to pull her closer. “Technically, the Time Bureau has rules about fraternizing with rogue time travelers, and I broke about five of them.”

“Agent Sharpe!” Sara gasped in faux shock. Ava just laughed and hooked a hand behind Sara’s neck to draw her into a kiss. It was long and slow, and it warmed Sara’s chest.

Ava smiled as she pulled away to look in Sara’s eyes. “It was worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I used every piece of dialogue from [this post](http://rmeisel.tumblr.com/post/169070413013/dialogue-prompts) because Sara or Ava would absolutely say these things.


End file.
